No Conditions, Whatsoever

A wakeup call

Reminder: Pray before reading this.

Author's PoV:

Feiha walked leisurely, admiring the shelves around that were laden with books of all kinds. She didn't know a public place that gave her more warmth and comfort than a bookstore. Even though she had been fond of reading ever since she was a child, it was the decision to study English Literature that transformed her fondness into love.

She checked the list that contained the names of the books she needed to buy for her curriculum. “Austen,” she ticked, “Woolf, Dickinson, Shelley…all done except this one.”

She strolled towards the shelf that had Poetry written on its top. Her eyes began to search for the last book she required and before she could find it, she heard a voice that made her halt her quest.

“I swear, Ashu, even Ayra is more mature than you're,” Ayan's annoyed voice reached Feiha's ears and before she could stop herself, she turned her head and found him entering the bookstore. With a woman.

“Haha, very funny,” a hijabi dressed in a blue top and white trousers with a beige scarf was beside him. She had a pair of beautiful brown eyes that were pretty big according to the proportion of her face, but they only made her look prettier. She was petite and chirpy, and overall pleasant to look at. “Now, shut up and let me find a gift for myself,” she shoved Ayan away but not before adding with a grin, “which you'll be paying for.”

Ayan rolled his eyes at her and Feiha immediately pushed herself closer to the bookshelf in order to not get caught by him while she was staring.

It's okay, she told herself, she might be just a friend of his.

She shrugged to herself and resumed looking for the book but a part of her was bothered. What if she is his girlfriend?

The thought irritated her and she was more agitated by the way she was getting affected. It's not like we're exclusive or something, she tried to make herself understand. Hell, Ayan wasn't even aware of what she felt for him so even if he was dating that woman, or any woman for that matter, Feiha didn't have the right to be pissed.

“Idiot,” she huffed to nobody in particular.

She finally succeeded in finding the book and rose on her toes to reach it as it was on the topmost row. She tried hard but she fell short and that only added fuel to her fire. “Damn it,” she cursed and was about to turn away and call someone for help when she felt a presence behind.

A tall figure extended his hand and grabbed the exact book, giving it to Feiha.

“Thank you for yo…” the words died as soon as she stood face to face with Ayan. He was wearing a denim shirt and loose black trousers with white sneakers. His hair looked messy, probably due to the wind outside, giving him a carefree and charming look.

“No problem,” he smiled and looked down, “Sylvia Plath?” He was talking about the book in Feiha's grip.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “have you read any of her works?”

“I tried,” Ayan scratched his neck, “but they were kinda heavy.”

Feiha agreed with him. Reading Sylvia Plath wasn't everyone's cup of tea but Feiha loved her poems. They were dark, deep and painfully mesmerising.

“Here,” they heard a feminine voice and were soon joined by Ashiya who was carrying a fantasy book in her hand and a cute tote bag that had a sunflower drawn on it. “Pay for this one and then take me to the grocery shop, I gotta buy some diapers for Ayr– Hi!”